


The River

by Peruvian Gypsy (Cat_Moon)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Peruvian%20Gypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cabin fever during a snowstorm leads to... unusual developments between the bickering friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The River

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published in Beefstick & Lambchop #1.
> 
> Original dedication: *This story is dedicated to all my fellow Sentinel fans up there in the Northwest, for whom 1996 went out with a roar. Especially S.Z., who provided inspiration and help to make this story possible.

 

  
_This river runs_  
 _Oh so deep within my soul_  
 _And it flows forever_  
 _And for the rest of all time_  
 _This river runs_  
 _This river runs to you...*_

 

 

Blair peeked around the corner of his bedroom door before tiptoeing into the living room.  Jim was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper that had to be at least two days old.

He paused, wondering if an intrusion into Jim's recently enlarged personal space would be welcome, or another mistake.  He'd spent three hours in his small room, trying to work on a paper that wasn't due for a month. He'd already caught up on his reading and mail, even, desperate for something else to occupy his time, straightened the mess in his room. Once upon a time he would've shared the accomplishment with Jim, indulging in some friendly banter as his roommate teased him unmercifully. Now, though, he wasn't sure any insults would be friendly.

Boredom and the accompanying frayed nerves were to be expected, under the circumstances. It had been snowing in Cascade for three days, and the forecasters said it was the worst blizzard in fifty years. As a result, much of the city was shut down for the duration. Simon had called Jim on Friday morning, informing him there was no point in coming to work, and telling him to take a three-day weekend. Things were quiet there too, it seemed even the criminals were forced to curtail their activities until the weather broke.

It was now Saturday night.

Nearly two days of being cooped up with a caged animal were beginning to take their toll on Blair. They usually got along remarkably well in any situation, a rare thing for two people as different in personality and temperament as they were. This time something was wrong. At first Jim had been grumpy, naturally annoyed at the turn of events. It quickly progressed to surly, then downright bitchy. Almost all of it aimed directly at Blair. Every move he made was wrong, everything he said was met more often than not with a nasty retort. It was understandable to be suffering from cabin fever...but Blair had begun to suspect this was much more. Normally, Jim's moodiness ran right off him, but this time there was something in the eyes and tone that his friend had never directed at him before.

_Friend. Huh, well, obviously not._

Unpleasant conclusions had been plaguing him for the past few hours. It was definitely starting to look like Jim didn't want him around anymore. He supposed he should've been surprised he lasted this long. When they first met, he'd decided it would take a miracle for the independent loner to even let him tag along on some cases. When he moved in temporarily after his place had blown up, he was certain Jim would kick his ass out after the stipulated week just as the man-of-his-word had said he would. The last thing he'd expected was Jim's relatively easy acceptance of him. As a guide, a partner, and a friend.

Apparently, that acceptance hadn't been as complete as it seemed. Had Jim only been tolerating him, until he got to the point where he could handle his heightened senses better by himself? Now that he was doing so well, did he figure he didn't need Sandburg anymore and could finally cut him loose? His tolerance was certainly at an all time low.

 Blair mentally shrugged. _Hey, didn't expect to be here this long anyway. Maybe he'll still want to work on some experiments, every once in awhile..._

He was surprised at how much the thought of leaving upset him. Like his mother Naomi, Blair Sandburg never let himself get particularly attached to any place or person. He cared, sure, enjoyed each new experience to its fullest until it was time to move on...or the other person moved on.  He'd learned early on that everything in life is always moving, changing. Endings are as much a part of living as beginnings -- and always follow. It made sense to always keep that in mind, protect yourself from dangerously deep attachments. Appreciate the present and the time you have to share with someone, then look back in fondness but without pain when they're gone from your life. Nothing is forever after all, sometimes not even true love.

So why did it suddenly hurt so much?

"Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer," a sarcastic voice startled him.

"Huh?" He looked at Jim blankly, who was raising questioning eyebrows.

"Is there some reason you're standing there staring at me?"

 _I was? For how long?!_  "I wasn't. Uh...just lost in thought."

Jim threw down his paper disgustedly and went to stand by the balcony door, gazing out at the abundant white landscape. "What do we pay our taxes for?! God forbid the damn city bureaucrats should pay the weekend overtime to get the roads cleared."

Jim had been champing at the bit to get out, _away from me.._   Blair's mind cruelly supplied, since Friday. But there wasn't much place to go, since nearly everything was closed. And while his truck might be able to handle the conditions fairly well, there was no accounting for the other idiots who'd be out in their compact cars, making the roads more treacherous than they already were.

Blair was suddenly afraid that Jim was thinking of abandoning common sense in his desire to flee the oppressive environment. He made one of his snap decisions, and started to speak.

"Listen Jim, there's something I've wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" Jim asked in a bored tone, not turning from the view.

Blair ignored the sting and plowed on with grim resolution. "I've noticed you haven't been in the best mood the past few days, and I think I know why."

That got Jim's attention, his head snapped around fast. "You do." His even voice however, betrayed nothing.

Blair hurried on, wanting to get it said before he lost his nerve. "It's the territorial thing. I understand, I really do. I mean, this whole thing with me staying here was only supposed to be temporary. I would've left if you'd told me to, but you didn't say anything and I figured--"

"What the hell are you getting at?" Jim demanded.

Blair took a deep breath, and continued. "If you want me to move out, get out of your hair, it's okay. Just say so."

Jim was silent for so long that Blair was beginning to wonder if he was going to answer at all.  "Stop being ridiculous," he finally snapped. "Get these stupid ideas out of your head and go do something useful for a change!"

Blair stood there for another half second, dumb-struck. Then, horrified to realize he was on the verge of tears, he spun on his heels and headed for the sanctuary of his room. He should have been reassured by the words perhaps, but the tone was so condescending and he was so stressed out by the long weekend that he was powerless to stop his irrational overreaction, or the negative thoughts from running through his head.

He must have severely misjudged Jim Ellison, for he never would have believed him capable of being this nasty. It was as if an evil alien had taken over his body, and the Jim he thought he'd known was gone.  
His emotions made him angry. Needing something serious to do, he began grabbing articles of clothing and stuffing it all into his shoulder bag, muttering to himself without caring that Jim would be able to hear. "Fine. I'm ridiculous. I'm stupid. I'm not useful. So what the hell do you want me around for?!"

 

* * *

Jim was just starting up the stairs to his room when Blair came back out into the living room. Wondering what was coming next, and what he was gonna do about it, he turned to glance at his friend -- and saw him sling a bag over his shoulder and grab his coat...

Panic propelled him forward. Instead of going around the obstacle in front of him, Jim went through it, vaulting over the couch and making it to the door just as Blair's hand grasped the handle. He grabbed his arm to stop him.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he yelled. "You can't go out in this!"

Instead of answering, Blair looked down at the hand around his arm pointedly.

Jim realized how tight the grip was and with shame, removed it. He petted the arm a few times in mute apology before dropping his hand.

Blair's eyes, when they met his, were all hurt pride. "If you can't be honest about this, I owe it to both of us to face it for you."

The words hit uncomfortably close to home, though if they were playing that hot-cold kid's game, Blair would've been ice cold. He wondered what he was going to do now, although he only had one real choice. His inability to deal with his feelings had caused him to lash out without provocation, and he knew he'd probably do it again, unless...

"It's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Reasonable question.

"This...doesn't have anything to do with you. It's _my_ problem."

Blair tentatively reached out, putting a hand on his arm. "Then talk to me, Jim. Tell me what's going on, maybe I can help."

Jim laughed shortly. "I wouldn't make any offers until I'd heard it if I were you." Maybe, if he still could find a bit of humor in the situation, things weren't completely irreparable. "It's, ah...complicated."

"Perfect." Blair actually smiled slightly at him. The kid's resilience was incredible. "I'm great at solving complicated problems."

Needing to move, Jim retreated first to the window, then settled reluctantly on the couch. Blair followed, sitting down on the other side, a full cushion between them. It didn't feel like enough. Blair didn't say anything, and Jim knew he was waiting patiently for him to explain himself.

He tried to collect his thoughts, but they scattered like frightened rabbits at his approach. He'd never been good at voicing his feelings and innermost thoughts, even on the easy things. This was something he wasn't even sure he should be speaking of out loud.  He started with something simple, hoping he'd be able to progress on without too much difficulty. "I know I've been a real shithead to you the past few days, and I'm sorry. I just...couldn't seem to stop myself."

Blair nodded. "I make a good wailing wall?" he inquired, without censure.

He winced. "No. It's not that."

"I'm the only one here right now," Blair guessed next.

"Partly that." Jim took a fortifying breath. "I never wanted to..." _hurt you_. He didn't think Blair would want that acknowledged aloud. Although he was more emotional than Jim, he had a lot of pride. "...make you think I don't want you here. Getting rid of you is the furthest thing from my mind." He mentally gritted his teeth and continued. As hard as this was to say, it was something Blair needed to hear after the way he'd acted. "You've...been a good friend, and I feel...lucky to have you as my partner."

Then he made the mistake of glancing at Blair. The smile didn't go much further than his eyes, but the pleasure shone there like a beacon. He was caught, held there like a moth, beating its wings senselessly against its fate.

"Same here, man," Blair whispered.

It was now or never. "This isn't easy for me to say, but I have to tell you something."

And just then, as Jim opened his mouth to confess, the lights went out. He wondered if it were a case of being saved by the bell, or if the powers-that-be were trying to tell him something.

"That's just great," they both said then, in unplanned unison.

His senses already starting to compensate without conscious control, Jim heard Blair stub his toe on the coffee table, and a quiet curse. Then the sound of him sitting back down again. "Uh, I think I'll stay here on the couch. You have the super eyesight, you can go find the candles."

Jim was already up, making his way around the apartment with ease. "It gets worse," he added. "If the power stays out for very long, it's gonna get pretty nippy in here."

"Well that's stupid," Blair complained.

As Jim moved around the apartment, he wondered how long they'd be without lights. He wished he could say it would be over soon, but in the northwest, in a storm like this, they could conceivably be without power for days. Several nearby areas already had been. Could things possibly get any worse?  He lit the oil lamp he'd gotten out, and put it on the table.

"Hey Jim, you got any extra blankets around here?"

"Uh, yeah, wait a minute." Jim rooted around in a bag under the stairs for a few minutes, finally finding what he wanted. He went back to the couch and tossed it on Blair's lap. It was one of those silver survival blankets. "You can take this. It oughta do just fine."

"Do you have another?"

Jim already wished this conversation was over. "No, go ahead."

"But what about you?" Blair asked persistently.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

"That's not fair." Jim heard him sigh. "Look, this is a survival situation, right?"

"We haven't come to chewing off each other's legs yet, don't worry," Jim deadpanned.

He could almost hear the gears clicking into place at his partner made up his mind. "Okay. Heat rises, right? So I'm just gonna borrow your bedroom for this. If you want to put aside your tough-guy macho stuff and join me, feel free. If not, stay down here and freeze."

Without another word Blair took the blanket, the lamp, and himself upstairs.

Jim stared after him, amazed at the nerve of his albeit usually pretty nervy partner. Maybe it was rebellion for the territorial rules he felt were always being enforced on him. Or maybe it was a challenge, or a test -- because it certainly wasn't a fear of freezing to death. Whatever Blair's motives though, he was more concerned right now with the special problem it posed to him. Kick Blair out of his room and risk destroying their shaky truce, or...or what? He stood in the middle of the living room, and looked up at the dark ceiling. "Who's side are you on?" he muttered. Then, bowing to dangerous temptation, he followed Blair.

The sight which greeted Jim was nearly enough to send him running back down. Blair, relaxing against the pillows in his bed, the oil lamp casting golden highlights over his skin. A more inviting picture he hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Move over," Jim told him gruffly, easing in under the thick spread of blankets. As for small favors, Blair was dressed in a sweat suit, a defense against the low setting on the thermostat that Jim had insisted on. Originally it had been in a very comfortable range, but that had prompted Blair to wear...less. It was a long enough weekend, so he'd put an end to that quickly.

Blair broke the uncomfortable silence.   "Relax man -- I won't bite," he teased.

"I'm not uncomfortable, you're imagining things." Blair was right, but not for the reason he thought, not exactly. A difference which makes no difference?

"Um hum," Blair said, unimpressed. "You were in the military, you must've done this before."

"What??" Jim sputtered, torn between amusement and bafflement at the bizarre comment.

"All right, so what's the difference between being in the jungle, a single bare blanket shared for warmth, only a few blades of grass between you, and being here in your own bed?"

"Believe me, there's a difference," Jim answered cryptically. He was tempted to mention how ridiculous this whole situation was, but didn't want to say anything that Blair might get his nose out of joint over. Are you really being led, if you follow willingly? Or maybe he just liked playing with fire.

"You never finished telling me what's been bothering you." Either an attempt to distract him, or get back to the subject, probably both.

Somehow, the intimate setting seemed to loosen his tongue more, as if inviting shared confidences. He glanced at Blair through narrowed eyes, wondering if this was the reason Blair'd maneuvered them both here. Some part of his brain told him this setting should have made him more uptight, less willing to reveal himself. Shouldn't it?

"This isn't an easy thing for me to talk about."

"I got that," Blair said encouragingly. "But I'm your friend, and I promise you can tell me _anything_."

"Hah. I don't know about that."

"I do. Remember when you told me you had a phobia about the ocean? It was something you'd never told anybody before. Did the sky fall down? Did the earth shatter?" Blair teased gently. "No. We got through it. Together."

"This is much bigger than a stupid irrational fear."

"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about, man. Phobias might be irrational, but there's no reason to be ashamed of them. What are you afraid of this time?" Blair asked, unerringly cutting through to the heart of the matter.

"Believe me, I know I'm not perfect. In fact, I'm probably a lot less perfect than you think I am. You just automatically assume I can beat anything."

"And you're not so sure."

Jim shook his head. "I'm just afraid you'll maybe...think less of me," he confessed, using the only words he could think of to explain what he meant. He wasn't certain what Blair would think of his desires, but he felt fairly sure something would inevitably be lost in his eyes.

Blair chuckled. "I'm afraid you've got a skewed view of how I see you."

Jim turned to him, suddenly very interested in knowing. "How _do_ you see me?"

Blair thought it over. "Stubborn as a mule," he smiled to take out the sting. "Proud, tough, honest, decent. Private. Sometimes almost unreachable within your self imposed walls. But definitely a human being who angers and bleeds, and makes mistakes like the rest of us. You aren't too arrogant to admit them, or too proud to take help when you really need it, although you'll bitch about it first." He grinned at that. "Your mistakes haunt you, and you imagine everyone else expects perfection when it's you who demands it of yourself. Down deep, you're the most decent man I've ever met and I'm proud to have you consider me a friend." He stopped abruptly, as if surprised at himself at what or how much he'd said.

"My ex-wife's biggest complaint was that I wasn't open enough emotionally with her." _Why the hell had he come out with that?_

"That's a woman for ya. That's why it's good to study our fellow human beings, really learn to read them. That way we can know what they're not saying as well as what they are."

He'd just proved that he knew Jim, fairly well. Jim smirked. "So how come you didn't know I wasn't ready to kick you out?" he asked to break the all-too intense mood.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Jim Ellison," Blair said, punching him lightly on the arm for emphasis.

Jim followed the new line of thinking, almost speaking to himself. "And I suppose that studying-people stuff only works best when we can be objective. If our own insecurities get in the way, it can certainly cloud our perceptions." In Blair's reaction earlier he could see clearly how sometimes the attitude 'read what I don't say' wasn't enough. Not for anyone, female or male. But it felt damn good to be understood without having to say anything. It occurred to him that was the reason he was sometimes careless with Blair's feelings. He was coming to expect Blair to understand without words.

"I still can't believe I was that way off," Blair said, shaking his head. "It really seemed like it was me you had a problem with."

"It was," Jim found himself saying. Surprised eyes turned to his, and there was no going back now. He had to continue. He owed it to Blair, and he was a man who didn't take his debts lightly. "It was my feelings for you. They've been...changing, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Changing how?" Blair asked in a neutral tone.

He tried talking to himself out loud again, it had helped last time. "When you first came along, I thought you were a pain in the neck, this pest who wouldn't leave me alone. I needed your help, you're right, I hated admitting it but I had to. Then to my amazement you turned out to be a real asset. You were trustworthy, good at improvising, kept your head in danger. I enjoyed your company -- despite all our differences, we got along. Then I started...enjoying you _too_ much. My feelings haven't stuck to the rules of friendship. I'm sorry."  Embarrassingly aware that he was probably beginning to babble, he nonetheless felt compelled to continue. "But I bet you have a great trick for getting past this, just like you always do." Silence. He wasn't up to eye contact, so he stared at the lamp, not caring if the brightness hurt his eyes. "Right?"

The chorus of cheerleaders in his head were urging him to look at Blair. He finally obeyed. For once, not much was showing in those usually expressive eyes. "Right?"

Blair cleared his throat, and for a strange moment Jim almost thought he was making an effort to keep a straight face. But Jim knew he wouldn't laugh at another's expense. "Are you saying you _want_ me?"

Unable to speak, he just nodded.

Blair mirrored it, Adam's apple bobbing the only sign of any emotion. "Actually, I think I can help you, yes." Jim relaxed a fraction. "I think the best way is to approach this from a scientific angle. The most important thing to do first is ascertain that you're correctly interpreting your feelings and reactions."

"Huh?"

"We need to do a small experiment, to make sure we know exactly what's going on here. Once we know that, we can figure out what to do from there."

"What kind of an experiment?" Jim asked with some trepidation.

"I think a kiss'll do."

"You -- are you sure about all this..." Jim protested.

"You gotta take this one step at a time, find out before you start worrying about what to do. We need to know if it's for real."

"What if I had proof..." Jim mumbled, telling himself no one ever _really_ died from embarrassment. It was only an expression.

"Jim," Blair began gently, "everyone has fantasies, or wet dreams, and they're not always something we want to happen in real life. But if we become obsessed with them, to the point of focusing on them too much, the lines can start to blur until we're not sure how we feel or what we want." Blair leaned closer.

"You don't have to do this--" Jim told him, both horrified and awed that Blair would go to such lengths to help him.

A hint of a smile. "It's okay, don't worry about me." He leaned closer again.

Jim retreated slightly. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He felt a bit like a death row inmate, walking the last mile and trying hard to put it off for just one more minute.

Blair just waited, a look of fond exasperation on his face.

This time when he leaned forward, so did Jim. There were a couple of false starts, but then he felt Blair's soft lips against his own. He couldn't remember a simple kiss ever affecting him so strongly before, even after the sentinel stuff had kicked in. Desire swam through his veins, heading south fast. He'd meant to keep his mouth properly closed, but it opened automatically upon contact. Full of Blair, he realized for the first time how much he wanted this.

Jim finally managed to end it, to pull himself away. Ashamed at how he'd barged in without an invitation. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." How could he lie anymore? Looking into Blair's eyes all he wanted, with every fiber of his being, was to take this man into his arms and make sweet love to him.

"Are you saying you didn't feel anything?" Blair asked skeptically.

He shook his head, chuckling shakily. "No, I'm definitely not saying I didn't feel anything."

"Good." To his astonishment, Blair leaned in again, touching his lips first to the corner of Jim's mouth, then moving over for another brief kiss.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked.

"I want you, too." Another kiss, one that Jim couldn't help participating in.

When it was over Jim backed away again, needing to collect his scattered wits. "I thought this was the part where we're supposed to talk about this, decide how to proceed from here?"

Blair grinned. "I think you can figure out what happens next," he teased.

Jim wasn't quite ready to give in yet. This had all happened too easily for something that had caused such prolonged agony just a few short hours ago. "What about our friendship? Can it handle this development?"

Blair appeared to give it careful consideration, his face reflecting his seriousness. "There's only one way to go from here, Jim. Forward. No matter what we do, our friendship will never be exactly the same again, will it?"

He nodded, accepting the unnerving truth of that.

"Life is always moving, changing, like a river. But if the water stays in one place too long it stagnates. For some reason the current didn't carry us in separate directions, it carried us closer together." He seemed almost puzzled by this turn of events.

But it made perfect sense to Jim. Blair was right, there was only one way to go. And if he was honest with himself, only one way he wanted to go. This time, it was he who initiated the kiss, wrapping his arms around Blair and pulling him closer. He basked in the exquisite sensations.

Blair shivered slightly in his arms, his face once again readable when their lips parted. An expression, as if surprised -- no, stunned -- to find himself there. "So this is why I..." he murmured.

"Hmm?" Jim asked distractedly, more interested in the neck under his mouth. Blair didn't answer, and neither of them cared.

* * *

Blair was having trouble believing in reality, even as clothes were coming off with astonishing alacrity. His senses were alive, singing at every touch. Hands and lips and tongue and hard body were demanding a response from him that he was giving all too willingly. And he couldn't quite grasp this turn of events, not with his head spinning and his body on fire. This scenario hadn't occurred to him in his wildest dreams, yet his first instinctive, unconscious reaction to finding out Jim wanted him wasn't surprise, or uncertainty -- it was pure gladness without an ounce of hesitation. Almost as if he'd been waiting for it, wanting it all this time. _Crazy_.

Or maybe not. He certainly wanted it now.

He'd been having a lot of wild adventures since teaming up with Jim, but this was the wildest by far. Like a roller coaster ride, thrilling, scary, addictive. He didn't like admitting it even to himself, and if he told Jim how much it turned him on, he'd probably never let him in on another case again.

Luckily, in this particular situation, it was more than okay to admit being turned on. He took a moment to enjoy the feel of Jim's hand sliding up his hip, then advanced the cause a big leap by raising himself up on top of Jim, providing more of the contact he craved.

"This is crazy, man," he breathed in a giddy euphoria.

"Crazy?" came a breathy response, with just a trace of insecurity.

Poor Jim was already nearly beyond speech, but he was there, ready to compensate for certain sentinel limitations/advantages. A feeling of being in control that he rarely knew where this man was concerned gave him a wicked rush.

"Wild," Blair clarified, slowly licking an ear. He basked in the shiver that ran through Jim's body, the eyes closing in pleasure. "Hang on, it's gonna be a wild ride."

As if agreeing, Jim's body bucked against his, hands roaming frantically over his flesh.

"Stay with me now," he encouraged, knowing the inevitable wasn't far off and aware of the inherent disadvantages of having such heightened senses at a time like this. "Ah....okay, that's _gooood_..." he agreed to the fingers that tangled in his hair possessively to pull him closer and mouth that branded his throat and chest.

A tongue in his mouth stopped further verbalizing, which was probably for the best anyway, since he was starting to feel like he was zoning out himself. Moments later he felt a wetness against his skin, and it was several more before he realized it was from Jim. A strange tingling began in his stomach and spread down fast. A hand was on his erection, working roughly to bring him to the edge and over, into a shattering climax. Afterward, lying on his back with his heart beating in his ears and various fluids cooling on his body, he realized the hand had been his own.

But now Jim's hand was there, moving in gentle patterns on his stomach, rubbing in the mingled semen. It was such a starkly tender caress that he turned wide eyes up to Jim's.

When he did, Jim kissed him. He reached out to the kiss with his whole body and soul. And remembered his promises to himself about never expecting or wanting things to last, had a feeling they were all broken for better or worse. The adventure had turned from a roller coaster to a sky dive. Where your stomach drops to your knees and you've already jumped so you know there's no going back now. Whether he hit the ground hard or a parachute would cushion the fall would be up to someone else this time.

"Wow," was about all he could think of to say when the kiss ended.

Jim regarded him for a moment, his face holding hints of embarrassment, then thoughtfulness, then amusement. "I don't have to apologize to another guy for coming too soon, right?" he asked ruefully.

"Too soon?"

"That's what I thought."

The return to humor was welcome. "Do you ever, you know, zone out with women?"

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds it may incriminate me," Jim answered.  He was smiling at Blair, an openly tender smile that affected him like no other ever had. It was also vaguely familiar, as if he'd seen a milder version somewhere. Then he remembered. After they'd come home from rescuing Simon and Daryl in Peru. It was the way he'd smiled when Blair had told him he'd turned down the trip to Borneo and was staying there.

"Oh god," Blair whispered, realizing he wasn't alone on that jump. Wasn't the only one in over his head here. Instead of being reassuring, it was frighteningly overwhelming.  It was like the time Jim had been temporarily blinded by the drug golden, and he'd helped him work the streets anyway. Scared witless that this crazy idea wasn't going to work, yet he'd known what he had to do. Terrified he wasn't going to be up to the momentous task Jim was asking...expecting of him.

Whether Jim had grasped the complicated implications of this outwardly simple lovemaking -- or ever would -- was another question. It didn't matter though. He knew, and that was enough for now. Hell, maybe it was better this way.

Suddenly Jim grabbed his face with both hands, as he often did, only this time without letting go. The look in his eyes was serious, intense. "Tell me you wanted this too. Tell me you don't regret it."

He knew the answer, just didn't know how he should respond. Serious, or light? _Even if you break my heart, I won't regret this. Even if the river carries you away too._

_No._

The honesty was painful, but he bore it. If anyone's heart was broken it wouldn't be just his. And the river's currents were sometimes rapid, but a person could grab hold and hang on tight. Refuse to let go. If the person was strong enough...

He must've been silent too long, for Jim was kissing him again, passionately. Lust abruptly reawakened in his body with an alarming fierceness.

"You see what you do to me," Blair said when Jim let him up for air. Playful fingers traced his beginning erection at the words, making him moan. "I'll never regret this," he vowed solemnly, understanding what Jim needed to hear. "Neither will you. I promise. Now will you shut up and make love to me?"

Jim smiled, all traces of worry gone. "Insatiable, aren't you?"

"I can keep up with you, if that's what you mean," he boasted.

"Hmm...looks like we're gonna have to do a few more...experiments."

"A few?" Pushing, just a little. To see how far Jim would go, how much he was willing to admit to.

 _A few million_ , he could've sworn he heard Jim say, but the words were smothered in another kiss. Maybe he'd heard right, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. They were two, alone on a raft, in the middle of a raging current. Whether the raft was sturdy enough to survive the ride, only time would tell. But in the heat of the moment, the precious now, it didn't matter beside the love carrying them along.

And the river flowed on.

 

 

  
_Can't tear my heart away from you_  
 _You are in my soul_  
 _Can't tame this love I feel for you_  
 _Can't escape what is meant to be_  
 _This river runs_  
 _This river runs to you..._

 

*This River; written by Diane Warren, performed by Michael Bolton

 

 


End file.
